


The Art of Changing Shapes

by Runwildwithme (NectarinesAndSourThings)



Series: Sorority (k)nights [3]
Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: Faeries - Freeform, Implied Noncon, Of the stolen-selkie-skin variety, Selkies, Trans Character, Transitioning, fae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14365053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NectarinesAndSourThings/pseuds/Runwildwithme
Summary: How Arthur becomes Art, goes to college, dates a selkie, maybe gets a girlfriend, becomes a witch’s minion, saves a selkie (a different one), and maybe becomes a sort-of Knight.Again, not in that order.





	The Art of Changing Shapes

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, lovely readers!! 
> 
> Today, we have another Sorority (K)nights tale, this one featuring Art. I think I may try to do one for each of the girls? It’s a nice goal, at least! 
> 
> Heads up: this deals (loosely) with Art’s transitioning. I am not trans. I have done my best to write a character who is. PLEASE let me know if I’ve done wrong by her. 
> 
> That said, I very much hope you enjoy!!

Arthur is seventeen, a poster-child case for anxiety and depression and burnout being laughed off as senior-itus happening a year too early, finally recovering from his second bout of mono, and just barely holding on to a 3.7 GPA by the skin of his teeth.

By the time senior year does roll around, he’s taken the SATs four times, and even then it's only four because he scores the same on the third as he does on the fourth.

He’s already applied to ... god, he doesn’t even know how many schools at this point, and yet each day one of his parents brings up another one over dinner.

It’s all ‘have you thought about..?’and ‘did you hear about this one’s research program’ and ‘just a suggestion!’

Which. None of those are _actually_ suggestions, so nearly every night for months Arthur tweaks yet another personal statement and submits yet another application, and is so, so tired. Too tired to even really talk with his online friends, and thank god the soccer season is over for now, but the mercy of being out of the locker rooms still isn’t quite enough to make up for the rest.

Still, Arthur is the third of five children: he’s seen this play out twice already, and just doesn’t have the stomach for rebellion.

When the acceptance letters finally start coming (and coming, and coming, _jesus,_ how many schools did he actually apply to), they pile up on his dresser, most unopened.

There’s a few schools he’s interested in, but only vaguely, and they’re all fairly close to home. It isn't a bad thing, exactly, being close to home, but...

But.

So the mail piles up and up and up, and eventually his mom starts making him sit down each night in the dining room to open at least five and _talk_ about them and he. He just..

He doesn’t care.

And then the EU acceptance letter comes, envelope a deep green and closed with a sticker made to look like wax seal.

And it’s kind of cool, yeah? And he’s been accepted, and there’s a scholarship offered, not a full ride, but nothing to sneeze at, and it’s far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to come home every weekend, and it’s apparently a great school and they have research opportunities and his parents are pleased with it, weird hippy-dippy name not-withstanding, and—

And something about the name tastes like freedom.

Which is silly, and stupid, and so stereotypically _teen_ that it almost makes him disregard the school on principle alone, but that’s pretty stereotypically teen, too, and of the two cringe-worthy options Arthur figures he might as well make the choice he likes, so he logs on to the website and makes his student profile and fills out all the forms and signs up for orientation and student housing and feels.

Feels good about it.

—

So Arthur goes to EU, and meets some people, and gradually gets a little suspicious, and maybe regrets sticking with his name (Name? Apparently??) but nothing ‘bad’ ever happens so he writes it off.

His first semester is hectic and stressful and he doesn’t get along super great with his roommate but—

But so far it’s the best four months he’s had in years.

—

Arthur comes home for Christmas with straight A’s, three shades paler, a torrid love for the library nestled deep in his heart, a plan for the next three and half years, and pierced ears.

Funny how it’s really only that last thing that matters.

  
His dad blusters until Arthur takes them out, his older brother rags on him constantly, and his mom goes through his room on the day his dad takes everyone shopping for Christmas gifts until she finds the piercings, and Arthur never gets them back.

His oldest sister, Becky, (the family disappointment, who refused to go to college, who wanted to learn a _trade_ , the _horror_ ) is only in town for the first two days of the winter break, before she has to fly back out for work.

She makes him promise to text her his address and let her know when he gets back to EU, and by the time he _does_  get back he’s so desperate for family that’s even _slightly_ less critical that he does, and over the course of the spring- in between classes and projects and an ill-advised attempt at a comprehensive exploration of the library (he’s lost for three weeks, and when he finally makes it out it’s a week before he went in. Which. Well. He’d known there were weird things that happened around EU, but he hadn’t _Known_ )- he gets closer with Becky than he’s ever been, and then, for his birthday, she mails him all sorts of snacks and a few different gift cards and a funny birthday card and—

And a set of lipglosses.

His roommate- the same one from first semester, and he’s fine as long as Arthur doesn’t have to hear him talk for longer than ten minutes at a time- sees, and thinks it’s a _real_ funny prank.

Arthur recognizes the look in his eyes, makes himself laugh along, and then grabs them all back out of the trash as soon as his roommate leaves.

—

Becky calls two days later, and wants to know if he’s gotten his birthday present yet.

They stall with talk about the snacks and what he’s gonna buy with the gift cards, and then just when he thinks she’s gonna chicken out she asks about the lipgloss.

He tells her he hasn’t used them, and in space of silence that remark leaves, adds _‘yet’_ , and that one little word leaves him shaking.

‘Lemme know when you do, ok? I don’t know if I got the right colors for you.’ She says, and when he still can’t make himself talk yet she tells him she loves him and their parents are dicks anyway.

He ends up crying on the phone, because of course he does.

—

Arthur - and he is still Arthur, for now, at least - starts using his lipgloss on the weekends.

He texts Becky a picture of the bottom half of his face, and then spends the next hour shaking in the bathroom.

He doesn’t wipe it off, though, and when she calls to congratulate him, his mouth is still sticky with it. It feels strange, and he’s ...aware of it, in a very strange and unfamiliar way. It’s. It’s not necessarily a bad strange, though.

—

He wears it to class, one day. It’s his math class, and no one says anything. It feels like he’s gotten away with murder.

—

He starts dating a boy - he has big dark eyes and thick dark hair and vitiligo who calls himself Phoca Fasci and thinks he’s clever for it - halfway through his second semester, and absolutely does not tell his parents.

It’s not really serious- Arthur is still figuring out what he even needs to figure out, and Phoca is _‘on the swim team’_ in the way that means he doesn’t leave for meets, but.. it’s good, and it’s fun.

And Phoca is nice, and knows about all the best parties, and all the best hangouts around campus.

And he’s considerate- never pushes, never guilts, and somehow always manages to cool things down right before Arthur realizes he’s getting uncomfortable, something curling in his gut in the un-fun way.

Arthur asks, finally, after what feels like ages (but the calendar says is only two months, and this is one occasion Arthur is glad of the general time-fuckery of EU) why he always pulls back, how he always knows to, and all Phoca will tell him is that,

_‘Oh, babe, you just aren’t shaped right.’_

And. Well. Phoca would know about shapes, Arthur supposed. He has the fur coat to prove it and everything.

—

Phoca isn’t normal-Gentry, but he’s certainly not _human_ , so Arthur - after taking approximately five hours to repress the bejesus out of his emotions - figures he actually ought to sit down and have a think about. Well. About things.

Like the jewelry Phoca gives him, and the lipgloss, and the eyeshadow he actually bought all on his own, and the way he doesn’t really look in the mirror apart from when he’s using his make up, and the way he maybe..

Maybe isn’t a he.

—

Three long phone calls with Becky, two emotionally exhausting days, and at least six false starts later, Arthur asks Phoca to call him ‘Art’.

Phoca nods, repeats the name in between kisses, and then, two days after that, asks if Art wants to be introduced as his _girl_ friend, from now on.

Art, voiceless with something huge and happy and breath-stealing and expansive welling up in hi- in her chest, can only nod.

She calls Becky again later that day to tell her, and Becky tells her that she’s absolutely thrilled to have a sister.

—

Phoca introduces her -as his _girlfriend_ \- to a witch he knows, who in turn introduces her to a boy- once called Edith, now called Jack- in the same-but-opposite boat she’s in.

The witch trades her deeper voice and her ability to grow facial hair to the boy for his higher voice and _inability_ as a freebie. Vocals are hard and finicky, but made easier, apparently, by certain mermaid tales. The trade does still require seashells, though only during the spell.

The bigger changes she and Jack need to save up for. The magical route is both cheaper and more reliably authentic than the strictly medical one, though in this case, the witch makes clear, ‘cheaper’ is a matter of relativity.

After that, they do the mostly cosmetic changes first: the shapes of their jaws, hands and feet and ankles, the adam’s apple. All bone work, yes, but just a little bit. Still costs a pretty penny.

Art ends up questing for the witch, to pay for the changes. And then starts Questing, which means she spends the money she was trying to save anyway on swordplay classes, and Phoca starts giving her all sorts of pretty chainlink jewelry, because ‘a knight should be shining, armor or not!’

Art is pretty sure he just likes seeing her wear the things he gets her.

Somehow, her roommate doesn’t notice. Partly because so he’s self-centered he hardly notices anything past his own nose, partly because Art makes an effort to present more masculinely when she’s (increasing rarely) home, but mostly because he’s preoccupied with his new girlfriend.

How anyone stands him is a mystery to Art, but hey, to each their own.

—-

She and Phoca break up not long after that. They’re still good friends, and it’s mutual, if very confusing.

Art more or less settles into being and considering herself a girl, and as soon as she does some of the.. well, the spark goes out of their relationship. It’s bizarre and upsetting, and she tries to ignore it for the longest time.

When she finally tells him, though, heart-broken and apologetic, he just laughs, kisses her, and says,

‘Well, of course! We were together, and now you’ve changed your shape, and now I set you free. This is how it goes. Though,’ and he laughs a little, ‘this is a little bit backwards.’

And because he’s weird and amazing and perfect, Phoca gives her an obscenely nice faux-fur coat as a ‘breaking up present’.

They still spend time together, but just as friends, now.

—

Art’s roommate situation finally becomes untenable about the same time she starts growing boobs.

The witch tells her that she should probably stay in for the weekend while the spell takes effect, because it’ll be pulling fat and resources to build up breast tissue from other bits of her and generally rearranging how her body stores fat. She should expect general fatigue and maybe some achiness.

The witch is a lying fuck and Art is going to give her what-for as soon as she can move without agony.

Chad- who is not actually named Chad, but honestly like Art is going to call him anything else - finally displays just how much of a dickbag he is that weekend.

He’d been out of the dorm most of the weekend, but he stumbles back in Sunday morning with his girlfriend, looking hungover and pissy about something. The girlfriend doesn’t look hungover, just tired, but she does look vaguely familiar.

Chad fumbles about for a while, and then finally makes some noise about ‘being a bro’, by which he means, ‘hey, maybe clear the room for a while, wink wink nudge nudge,’ which, gross, but whatever.

Art lurches her way out to the common area, taking all the bedding she was wrapped up in with her, and passes out on the couch. She wakes up when the girlfriend leaves, and gets a good enough look at her face to remember where she knows her from.

Art skips her classes on Monday, waiting for Chad to leave for his, and just about tears their shared room apart as soon as he does, looking for the girlfriend’s pelt.

She finally finds it, rolled up tight and stuffed into the far side of one of his pillowcases.

Once she’s pulled it out, it feels wrong to handle it with her bare hands, so she empties out her backpack - the one with the iron buttons - drapes a spare sheet over the it, bundles it up and gingerly prods the fur into her bag.

She stuffs her makeup, jewelry, laptop, and textbooks into her laundry bag, and drags all her clothes out to the back of her dumpy Jeep.

She texts Phoca, asking him to call her as soon as he gets a chance, let’s her RA know that she’s moving out, and goes directly to the library.

She finds an open computer, sits with the backpack on her lap, and spends a few hours tooling around on various campus forums, looking for a room to rent _literally_ as soon as possible. Half way through the semester is a bad time for this kind of thing, though, so she’s just about ready to give up and venture onto craigslist when Phoca calls her.

THey exchange greetings, and then she asks,

‘So, what’s the etiquette on returning a selkie’s fur?’

‘ _Whose_?’ He asks, and his voice sounds like the Arctic.

‘Dickbag roommate’s girlfriend. I don’t know her name. He finally brought her around yesterday, and I recognized her from your swim team. Found the pelt this morning once he left. I have it with me in the library.’ Art tells him.

‘We’ll be there in twenty.’

‘I’ll be waiting.’

Phoca and the girl show up well inside the twenty minute timeframe, and as soon as Art sees them she gets up to meet them at the library doors.

They all gravitate to one of the tables just outside the coffee shop, and Art unbuttons her bag and pulls back the sheet just enough for the selkie to see and touch her pelt.

‘I tried not to touch it, once I found it,’ Art tells her, and then flails, just a bit, before she realizes the selkie is hugging her, tight as she can, and crying. Art hugs her back, just as hard, and they don’t let go for a long time.

When she finally pulls back, Art does up the buttons and hands her the entire bag.

‘The buttons are iron. I don’t know if that’s an issue for you, and I’m not asking. If it is, just cut the backpack up. I don’t need it back.’

The selkie looks like she might start crying again, at that, but nods and takes off with the bag before she does.

Phoca stays behind, and once she’s gone Art breaks the silence before he does.

‘I don’t know his Name, but I can get his schedule for you.’ She offers.

‘That would be appreciated,’ he says, and then, ‘You are Owed, for this.’

‘No. I won’t accept payment for this.’ Art says, immediate and firm. ‘This kind of thing is too important for debts.’

It takes a bit, but Phoca finally accepts her at her word. The barista who just saw the whole exchange, however, firmly refuses to let her pay for her coffee.

Back in the library, when she logs back onto a computer and navigates to the housing listings, there’s a brand new posting, where a ‘Lynn’ is looking for some ‘friendly girls also going to Elsewhere’ to rent some rooms to, mostly because the house her aunt left her feels too lonely, with just one person inhabiting it, not because she needs help with rent. It’s off campus and by the sea, apparently, which makes the rent she’s asking for dirt cheap. Also, the barista totally wrote her phone number on the cardboard sleeve.

The universe likes her today, Art decides, and sends an email, closely followed by a text. 

**Author's Note:**

> Phoca Fasci is short for Histriophoca Fasciata, the scientific name for Ribbon seals!! They’re super cool looking, and Phoca’s vitiligo totally follows the same pattern. :D
> 
> Let me know what you think, and if you have any ideas for what some of Art’s q/Quests May have been! I think I want to write more with her. :)


End file.
